Chapter One

 

Kristin squatted in the corner of the dark cavern, scraping carefully away at the base of the stone wall. She screamed and fell backwards, scuttling away from the wall where the enormous bug had emerged, and George laughed in amusement.

"Fuck!" she gasped, heart pounding.

"It's only a bug."

"Do you see the size of that thing!?"

George stepped on it, then used his boot to fling it away.

Kristin glowered up at him, then got back onto her feet.

"If you're going to be an archaeologist, my dear, you had best get used to bugs," he said.

She snorted resentfully. She'd spent seven years in university, so far, working towards her doctorate and didn't need such condescending advice. It irritated her that George was so unflappable, but she supposed that would come with time. This was only her third real dig, and the first really undeveloped and unexplored site.

They were in Southern Ethiopia, trying to find the ruins of an ancient palace which was allegedly built high into the mountains and reached through tunnels dug through the stone. The problem was there were an awful lot of caves, and many of them had been expanded and fortified ages ago by the nomadic people who had once lived here. George had a theory about this particular cave, though. The walls had been cut and carved and a crude outer wall put in place, much like in many places, but he thought there was a hidden passage behind.

She resumed her careful scraping away at the dirt, trying to find some long ago sign that would point to something more to this little cave. It was all so different from her schoolwork. At school, she wore neatly pressed dresses and business suits - for as a doctoral student she was also an assistant teacher. She worked in sterile environments, with air conditioning, bright lights, and all the amenities, including toilets.

And out here, where the real work was done, she was wearing a sweat stained pair of khaki shorts and a dirty green t-shirt. Her blonde hair was pulled severely back and tied behind her head in a doubled up pony tail, and she wore a bandana around her forehead to soak up some of the sweat and keep it out of her eyes. For while they were in a cavern and out of the sun it was still horribly hot. She felt filthy, for water was at a premium and not to be wasted on sponge baths or even washing hands.

She felt absolutely filthy and grotty, and was determined that somehow she would get a job in a museum, developing the secrets to other people's discoveries once she graduated! Let them take the glory of the digs while she sat in comfortable obscurity back home!

She brushed away at the rock, then paused to examine her nails with a sigh of regret. They'd been so perfect when she'd left San Francisco! She got weekly manicures, and had a dozen different shades of nail polish for different occasions. She even matched them to her lingerie, which she also had in many different colors and types. For though she was required to wear clothing which was largely asexual in order to not be an object of fantasy to her students she liked to wear sexy lingerie underneath, to remind herself she was very feminine.

That hadn't really been possible for this dig, though. Everyone was in everyone's face, and she'd worn practical underwear as well as outerwear. She had always been something of a target for men, given her looks, and she was trying to minimize that on the dig. She kept her blonde hair pulled back, and wore deliberately clunky glasses instead of the lightweight, rimless ones she tended to prefer at home. Her bras were also designed to minimize, not enhance, the apparent size of her breasts. There was no one on this dig she wanted to fool around with and so was not going to give them any more ideas than they'd already have.

She was so burdened with her unhappy thoughts she didn't even notice, at first, when the small stones and dirt she was brushing away actually began to show a pattern underneath. A line appeared, then another crossing it. She continued brushing away with her little wire brush, and a second line appeared. And now she did take notice, startled staring.

"Uhm ,George?"

"What? Another bug?"

"No, come over here."

George and Adam came over, and George cursed happily, dropping to his knees. The three of them brushed and dug away, revealing what looked very much like a long, inch wide stone lever of some kind which was pushed in level with the wall around it. George sprayed water around it, then a little oil as they revealed it all the way down. Then Adam slid his long, thin fingers in around it and began to tug with increasing force.

There was a grinding sound, and then a shower of dust as a crack appeared in the wall above. George gave a push and the doorway slid in and back as he, Adam and Paul whooped in delight.

As lead archaeologist, George moved in first, while Kristin, being a mere student, brought up the rear. It was only happenstance that she forgot to grab her sack just as he passed through the door and then scurried back to snatch it up. She did so with such speed some of the spare batteries fell out and she had to stop, cursing, scoop them back into the bag, then leap up and head for the doorway again.

Just as it slammed down, hard enough to draw a scream of shock from her lips. There was a rumbling sound beyond, and she thought she heard faint screams, then nothing.

 

Kristin moaned weakly, eyes fluttering. She had lost track of how long it had been since the water had run out. She had smashed windows in both of the two Land Rovers in the desperate hope someone had stashed a key somewhere in one, but the keys were apparently underground with George and Paul. They had not emerged from the wall, and she was sure now that they had died in some sort of collapse, perhaps a booby-trap.

They had been almost at the end of their endurance when they'd found the cave, about to turn back for lack of water. They'd used up much of what remained in the two days they'd been there. And now there was nothing. She knew that someone who understood cars could probably have gotten one of the rovers to start somehow, but she knew nothing about machinery. All she knew was it was a hundred and twenty degrees in the sun, and a long way back to civilization - somewhere, in some direction she wasn't entirely sure of.

She'd hoped that after a few days of non-communication someone might have noted it and sent help, though she wasn't sure how they would find them. And that frustrated her, as well. There were radios in the cars, but they required the car be turned on. No doubt someone who understood electronics could have hooked them up straight to a car battery or something similar, but that someone was certainly not Kristin.

So she had stayed there inside the cave, day after day, always hoping that surely someone would arrive - eventually - to find them. She had rationed her water as much as she could, but in end it had run out, and in the ever present heat she lay now on the floor of the cave, feeling as though she were being baked in an oven, her mouth dry, her throat parched. She knew she was dehydrated, and knew she was getting worse. But there was certainly nothing she could do about it at this point. There was no water nearby that she had been able to find, and she was now far too weak to go anywhere.

Her throat ached from lack of water, and every breath hurt.

 

Mengesha examined the abandoned vehicles with interest. Each had a broken window, and sand had gotten inside, scattering across the seats. That told him how long they had been sitting there, as did the sand piled up against the wheels on the windward side. There were no footprints nearby, so no one had been near them for at least a day or so. He spotted some debris off to his right, however, and more a bit beyond that, as if someone had been carrying things from the vehicles and dropped some along the way. There was an ancient cave that way, he knew, for he had taken shelter in it in times past.

Mengesha, like many of his nomadic contemporaries, was a tall, lithe man of well over six feet. He had a powerful build from working with his camels. Mengesha was a wealthy man in that he owned a number of camels, bred them, sold them, and used them to transport goods out into the desert highlands to sell to the isolated tribesmen there.

He made a signal to Tefere, his son, and the boy loped around the end of the clearing and off towards the cave. Tefere had passed his manhood ceremony four years back, but Mengesha knew he had a lot left to learn. He trotted off after the boy, wondering what the strange city people had gotten up to now. The cavern was sacred, and he scowled at the thought of them desecrating it.

He found him just inside the cave, squatting next to a white woman. She was one of those with golden hair. Mengesha had heard of such but never seen one.

"She has had no water for some days," Tefere said, looking up at him.

Mengesha knelt and examined the female, rolling her over, pinching her skin lightly to tell how dehydrated she was. He parted her lips, blinking in surprise at her perfect teeth. He slipped a long, thin finger along her tongue, both to test its dryness and to see if it reacted. It did, but slightly. He rolled her eyes back and was again startled at how blue they were.

Tefere had already scrambled to his feet and gone out, certainly to fetch water and fruit. Mengesha considered the woman thoughtfully. He was a wealthy man as his contemporaries considered things, but he had three wives to support, and twelve children. His sons, like Tefere, would need a bride price if they were to marry, and that would be as much as thirty goats each.

His tribe no longer kept slaves, but it was not beyond his memory, for they had in his father's time. He looked around the cave, saw the lever, and nodded to himself, recalling again ancient words. The others of her kind had gone inside. It was death to go inside. All knew that, but not the foolish city people or the white skins. So the girl was alone without family and if any knew of her they had not deigned to come and save her.

There was much wealth to be had here from the vehicles out front. If he could get the camels to drag them away. As for this woman, Mengesha had no need of a slave, but he had been to the city, and he knew how reverently such women were spoken of, as almost mythological creatures of pleasure. He ran his hand over her breasts with satisfaction. They seemed full and well-able to feed children. Her hips were slim, but no doubt with better food they would widen. She would bring a very good price if sold to the right people.

Tefere returned with the water sack and Mengesha held his hand out for it.

"I have taught you much about the training of beasts, Tefere. Now I will teach you more."

They raised the female up and tilted her head back, and Mengesha poured a little water into her mouth. He waited, and poured a little more. It would be necessary to draw the girl back closer to consciousness in order to begin.

 

Kristin moaned dazedly. She had little idea where she was, nor even who she was. She drifted on a sea of pain and confusion, understanding little about what was happening. The touch and taste of liquid, however, water, was a powerful, instinctive influence. She neither knew nor cared where it came from or where it was. She licked eagerly at the wet finger at her lips, her cracked lips trying to suck like a baby.

She didn't stop for a moment to wonder whose finger it was, or why it was there. It was wet, and she licked as desperately as she could, given her weakened state. When the finger was removed she moaned unhappily. Strong hands propped her up, but she didn't understand that either.

And then the finger was in her mouth again, only it wasn't a finger. A part of her knew what it was, but her brain was not processing such information for she didn't care. It was wet, and she licked desperately, licked and licked again. Each time it appeared she moaned and struggled to crane her neck, to reach it with her tongue and lips.

It eased forward, and she got her lips around it, moaning, sucking on the moist liquid. It dripped with water, and she gloried in the touch and taste of it in her parched mouth, desperately trying to draw more of it down into her throat. It pulled back, almost dried by her hot, dusty mouth, but then came back, and again she weakly tilted her head to take it into her mouth, moaning in its slick wetness, sucking and licking at it.

 

Tefere was astonished at the sensations the female's mouth was imparting to his manhood. He gaped at his father, who smiled knowingly. His father had been to the city, and said all manner of things were practised by the women there that the village women would never countenance. The woman's mouth felt amazing around his cock even when it was dry. Now that her mouth was becoming moist, the feel was even more amazing, as was that of her tongue!

He could not withstand the pleasure, and exploded into her mouth, crying in pleasure. The woman simply swallowed his juices with a degree of enthusiasm he found horribly exciting for some reason.

His father chuckled in knowing amusement, then motioned Tefere to trade places.

 

The liquid she could suck off the Ethiopian men's cocks helped ease the pain of her mouth, and gradually, her throat, but was not nearly sufficient to sate Kristin's thirst. It helped, though, and she lay, moaning weakly as her fuzzy mind tried to work its way back to consciousness.

She didn't really understand when her clothes were removed nor care as she was laid out nude on the warm dirt. Mengesha spread her legs and examined her naked sex with Tefere at his side. He gently spread the lips of her sex and showed him the tiny button above which, he said, was how to control women.

"Why has she no hair?" Tefere asked doubtfully. "She is no little girl."

Mengesha shrugged. "Perhaps she had a disease."

He hoped that wouldn't lower her price.

"Now, remember, lick your finger, and rub gently here, but only when my manhood is in her mouth."

"Yes, father."

He went back to her head, wetted his cock, and rubbed it against the female's lips. She moaned and her eyes fluttered open again.

They turned her around, because Mengesha wanted her to struggle to reach him. He moved a little ahead of her and held his manhood out, swinging it before her glassy eyes, and she struggled weakly, trying to pull herself across the ground. He eased closer, and she panted weakly, shifting a few inches forward, her head reaching out, tongue pushing out.

He let her take the top of him into her mouth, and nodded to Tefere, who began to rub at her pleasure place.

"Slowly, boy," he cautioned.

He let his shaft sink deeper into the girl's mouth. He had already delivered an explosive release, but was ready again, and now braced himself against the pleasure. He kept pulling back to moisten himself, and then delayed the inevitable by moistening his balls and letting her suck and lick at them. Each time he made her struggle to reach him so her satisfaction would be that much greater when she was able to satisfy her great thirst.

She rolled her eyes up at him, seeing but unseeing. He pushed down on her head, wanting her to focus her vision on his manhood. This would become the source of her nourishment in her mind, the source of both pleasure and sustenance, to be sought after, struggled for, worshipped.

He erupted in her mouth again and traded places with his son. Now it was Tefere who urged her on, fighting his own instinct to draw things out, to make her crawl desperately forward, to let her only slowly wrap her lips around his shaft and draw it into her mouth.

Mengesha's fingers rubbed insistently between her legs, pleased to feel the moisture beginning to appear in her sex. Not only was her body responding but the presence of that moisture meant she was not so horribly dehydrated that she faced any great danger.

He ran his hand over her body, shaking his head in wonderment at how wonderfully soft and unmarred her skin was. It was unpleasantly pale, true, but so soft! The women of his tribe spent their days in the sun, and their flesh told the tale of it, not to mention the ceremonies which resulted in scars across their backs.

The girl's hips began to grind slowly, weakly against him, and his lips curved into a deeper smile as he slowly sank his thumb into the mouth of her sex, pumping it lightly in and out as his finger caressed her pleasure place.

He looked up to see that Tefere had somewhat lost control. His shaft was all but invisible, indicating he had thrust it so deep into the girl's mouth it was down her throat. Yet there would be nothing in her stomach to draw out, and as long as the shaft was not left in too long it would not unduly harm her. He heard the girl gurgle as the shaft blocked her throat, and motioned Tefere back.

"She must breathe now and then," he said dryly.